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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28270947">Out of the Loop</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clarence_Jennette/pseuds/Clarence_Jennette'>Clarence_Jennette</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sleepless Domain (Webcomic)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Everybody Must Have A Tragic Backstory, Gen, Pre-Magical Girl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:29:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,410</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28270947</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clarence_Jennette/pseuds/Clarence_Jennette</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The reason why Bud was so upset about finding out about Goops is rooted in her life before she was a magical girl.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Out of the Loop</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Martha let out a frustrated sigh. A full-blown crisis just as she was getting ready to go home! And her daughter would be getting off from school soon. She tried calling her regular babysitters but no one was picking up. And even if her husband left work immediately it would take him an hour to get to the house. Bud was a very responsible 12 year-old but there was no way she was going to have her return to an empty house. Reluctantly she called her last resort: her sister Columbine. Not the most responsible person but any port in a storm ….</p>
<p>“Ah. Um. Hello. This is Columbine.”</p>
<p>“Columbine? It’s Martha. I’m tied up at work and can’t get any of my sitters. Could you go over to the house and watch Bud until I get back?”</p>
<p>“Uh, sure, I can do that. I’ll, ah leave right now and get on over.”</p>
<p>“Thanks. Love you. Bye.”</p>
<p>“Love you too sis. Bye.”</p>
<p>Columbine hung up the phone and looked at the clock. She had an hour before Bud came home and she lived only 10 minutes away by tram. Martha had interrupted her just as she was finishing a particularly difficult piece of work. She was loath to stop because it might well mean starting over. But she had enough time to finish and get to the house before Bud came home. Plenty of time.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bud sat chatting with her school friends on the tram. She was a bright, friendly, inquisitive girl with dark skin, wide brown eyes, and midnight black hair in short box braids. Some of her schoolmates might, less charitably, call her a little nosy. However, she was a happy, goofy child and most of her peers overlooked that trait because she was fun to be around.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Columbine leaned back in her chair with a grunt of satisfaction. Finally finished. Then she looked at the clock and cursed under her breath. She had completely lost track of the time! Bud would be arriving home soon. Columbine grabbed her purse and flew out of her house. With luck she’d only be a few minutes late.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bud walked up to the door and frowned. Normally Mom had the door open for her when she came home. She rang the bell and then knocked on the door. No answer. She shrugged. Mom was probably busy with something. She took out her key (she’d been so proud when they gave it to her) and unlocked the door.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The stupid tram was behind schedule. Columbine bulled her way aboard when the doors opened. <em>Come, come on!</em> she thought, <em>get moving!</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Crisis contained</em>, Martha said to herself. <em>Now I can finally go home to my little girl. I hope Columbine hasn’t given her a snack and ruined her appetite for dinner ….</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bud dropped her schoolbag in the hallway. “Mom, I’m home!” she yelled. Silence. She called out again, but there was no answer. Feeling a little spooked now, Bud started to search the house.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The tram jerked to a stop. Columbine, who had been fretting every since she got on the tram, cursed again. The driver turned to the people in the car and said, “There’s an obstruction on the tracks. We’ll move forward again once it’s cleared.”</p>
<p>Someone else called out “How long do you think that’s going to take?”</p>
<p>“Maybe a half-hour or so?” replied the driver.</p>
<p>At this point Columbine was getting frantic. “I’ve got someplace I got to be! Can you just let me out here?” she asked the driver.</p>
<p>“Sorry ma’am. That would be against our safety procedures. As soon as we get to the next stop I can let you off.”</p>
<p>Columbine let her head thump against the seat. Her sister was going to <em>kill</em> her. And it would be entirely justified.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She was alone in the house. Bud wasn’t worried; she’d just call her Mom and find out what was going on. She dialed her Mom’s number but was routed to the answering machine. What to do now? She didn’t feel like reading the new mystery she’d gotten from the library, although reading was usually her most favorite thing to do. She felt like she needed to take advantage of this rare opportunity. And she knew exactly what she was going to do ….</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Martha checked her watch as the tram made its way towards her stop. In another half hour she’d be home.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Mom had gotten a new hat. It was really pretty with a flower on it’s side. Mom called it a <em>cloche</em>, which Bud thought was a funny name for a hat. She just <em>had</em> to try it on. And she’d imagine herself all dressed up for a party in a lovely frock and brushing aside long, light blond (almost white) hair like her mother had (and that she secretly coveted). It would be so fun!</p>
<p>Bud walked into the closet in her parents’ room. The hat was there, up on the top shelf. She had to get up on her tiptoes but she was just able reach it. As she pulled it down a box came tumbling down after it. Bud yelped and ducked as the box came open and papers swirled around her head. <em>I’m in trouble now!</em> she thought. <em>Better clean this up before Mom gets home</em>. She started to pick up the scattered sheets but her attention was suddenly arrested by one of them ….</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The tram finally began to move. Columbine was poised at the door, ready to leap out as soon as it opened at the next stop. She knew that it would take her at least 15 minutes to get to the house running as fast as she could.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The paper had “RECORD OF ADOPTION’ across the top of it.</p>
<p>
  <em>It had her name on it.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Martha got off the tram. She walked to the house and opened the door. She saw Bud’s schoolbags in the hallway but no sign of Bud or her sister. Martha’s ire began to rise. <em>I. Am. Going. To. Kill. Her! s</em>he fumed. <em>She left my baby alone!</em></p>
<p>Suddenly she was aware of the sound of quiet sobbing. She followed the sound to the bedroom she shared with her husband. There she found Bud, her face a sheen of tears, seated on the bed and staring at a piece of paper that she held in her shaking hand.</p>
<p>Martha paled. She recognized the sheet of paper her daughter was holding. Taking a shaky breath she sat down next to Bud and put her arm around her. And her heart broke a little when Bud subtly shifted her body away from her.</p>
<p>“Why didn’t you <em>tell</em> me!” Bud sobbed.</p>
<p>“Oh baby, we were going to tell you when you were a little older, when we thought you would understand it better.”</p>
<p>“Who are my real parents?”</p>
<p>Martha’s heart broke a little more. “Honey, we don’t know. It was anonymous adoption. I guess your birth parents thought it would be easier on you if you ….”</p>
<p>Bud shook off her mother’s embrace and started walking toward the door. “I think I want to be alone now,” she said.</p>
<p>“Oh baby please let me try to explain ….”</p>
<p>Bud whirled to face her. “You <em>lied</em> to me! Just leave me alone!” She ran crying out of the room.</p>
<p>Martha heard the door to Bud’s room slam shut and the lock click into place. She felt a headache coming on. <em>We are going to need to make this right with our daughter</em>. She heard a key in the lock of the front door and a voice calling Bud’s name. <em>That’</em><em>s</em><em> Columbine. Well, I’m going to give her a piece of my mind!</em> she thought angrily. Martha left the bedroom to confront her sister.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Bud lay face-down on her bed. She cried until she had no more tears. Dimly she heard what sounded like an argument between her Mom and … Aunt Columbine? It didn’t matter. <em>Nothing</em> mattered anymore.</p>
<p>Her real family hadn’t wanted her. Didn’t even want her to find them. And yeah, her mind whispered to her, she’d been lucky to be adopted by people who loved her. But they had let her live a lie. They hadn’t told her the truth. They hadn’t <em>trusted</em> her.</p>
<p>Something hardened inside her. She knew she was good at finding out things, at reading people. And she’d get better.</p>
<p>She swore she would never, <em>ever</em> be out of the loop again.</p>
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